


Where are you now that you're too good for me?

by daisychains54



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtubers
Genre: M/M, Tronnor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5220458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisychains54/pseuds/daisychains54
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Troye finds himself in an alternate universe where Connor isn't himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where are you now that you're too good for me?

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by Where Are U Now (Pentatonix cover) and the Too Good lyric sample we got a few weeks ago.

Troye hates fighting with Connor. 

 

To be fair, it doesn’t happen that often, but when it does, oh boy does he fucking hate it. He hates the distance that follows, although largely temporary. He hates the dark looks and blank stares and passive aggressive eye rolls, although, again, to be fair, those are mostly on Troye’s part. He can’t even remember what the stupid fight was about, but he just knows that he was right and Connor was wrong. Or the other way around. He can’t even remember who was winning. This is so dumb, he thinks as he rearranges his pillow on the couch. Even with their ongoing fight, Connor still offered the bed to Troye, only infuriating him more. Connor’s too good for him, too good for anyone really, too good for the entire earth. Troye gets so frustrated with Connor’s quick-to-forgive nature. He’s all too kind and too honest and too loving and oh - Troye interrupts his own thought - that’s what the fight was about. 

 

Troye remembers that he’d been in a bad mood all day, about some dumb thing he read or a bad song playing during his uber ride to Connor’s or something, who knows, but he’d been fee-fi-fo-fum-ing around the house all afternoon when Connor tried to rub his happy-go-lucky pheromones all over him. That’s when Troye snapped. He asked Connor why he always feelt the need to fix everything and it came out a lot more condescending than anticipated. The worst part was that Connor apologized, as if he’d done something wrong. He apologized to Troye even though Troye was acting like a total brat. Connor apologized by saying he should’ve given Troye some space because he was visibly upset. Troye couldn’t take it anymore. He went on a rant about Connor being too nice and Connor asked what’s wrong with being too nice and Troye said everything and their fight just went into the illogical/nonsensical realm where all fights end up. Connor suggested they sleep it off so that’s what Troye is trying to do but he forgot Connor buys throw pillows for their aesthetic, not comfort, and he’s currently very uncomfortable. 

 

Eventually he fusses so much with the pillows that he finds a part that isn’t stuffed with rocks and rests his head there for the rest of the night, somehow finally finding sleep.

 

When Troye wakes up the next morning, the house is eerily quiet. Troye lifts his head to peer into the kitchen but Connor isn’t there making his usual morning cup of coffee. Odd, Troye thinks. Connor’s usually out of bed and ready for his day before Troye even thinks about waking up. He gets up anyway, even though he’s terrified Connor might be dead because that would be the only logical explanation for him not being up out and of his room already. He reaches Connor’s closed door and knocks gently, hoping last night’s fight was one of those forget-in-the-morning types. He doesn’t get a response, but he opens the door anyway. He finds Connor sitting on his bed, looking at his phone. He doesn’t look up when Troye sits next to him and he’s pretty sure this is the apocalypse because why is Connor ignoring him, he’s usually the first one to forgive-and-forget.

 

“Con,” Troye says, putting his hand on Connor’s arm. Connor pulls away like Troye just burned him and the tension settles on them like a dark cloud. “I’m sorry,” Troye says immediately, surprised at the anxiety he hears in his own voice. “I don’t even know why we were fighting, it was so stupid of me to say you’re too nice. Of course you’re nice, that’s like your best trait. You’re so forgiving and sweet and-“

 

“Are you done kissing up to me?” Connor asks. He hasn’t looked up from his phone. Troye feels like he’s stepped into a wormhole. Who is this and where is his boyfriend who’s usually too much everything except an asshole which is what he’s being too much of right now.

 

“I’m not kissing up to you,” Troye says, biting his tongue to avoid saying what he wishes Connor would kiss with that attitude of his. “I’m just saying, I didn’t mean to fight with you. It was-“

 

“I’m going to get coffee down the street,” Connor interrupts, getting out of bed, still not looking at Troye, and walking out of the door without inviting him. Troye’s convinced aliens have stolen his boyfriend. What the fuck, he thinks to himself, what the actual fuck? He’s beyond upset now. Here he was, just trying to apologize and scrap last night but Connor, oh no, Connor just had to wake up in the worst mood ever. Troye is furious because stupid arguments aren’t supposed to last this long, especially when Connor has forgiven worse. “What the fuck?” he says aloud this time. He’s still sitting on Connor’s bed so he gets up and walks into the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee seeing as his usual barista has morphed into Godzilla. He starts tinkering with the coffee machine when he notices Connor ran out of pods which is probably why he rushed out the door, keeping Troye hostage in his house without caffeine. He really is a monster. 

 

Troye busies himself on the couch, going through twitter, causing his fans to freak out by tweeting something vague about people being two faced and he laughs, wanting to show Connor but Connor is too busy being an idiot. As if controlled by Troye’s thoughts, Connor steps inside with his coffee and walks past Troye.

 

“Can we make up now?” Troye asks, following him into the kitchen. “This is seriously the worst and I’m going home tomorrow I don’t want my last day here until God-knows-when to be us fighting.”

 

Connor stares at him, expression as blank as those white backdrops he loves taking pictures in front of so damn much. Troye feels like screaming. This has to be their worst fight to date. Worse than the time Troye accidentally forgot Connor hates Swiss cheese and made him a grilled cheese with it. Worse than the time Connor was busy and kept missing Troye’s calls. Even worse than the debacle of 2014 which they promised to never mention because it was the stupidest fight, until this one apparently. Even when they’re fighting, Connor still looks at Troye, even tries to keep their bodies close to remind him how much they actually love each other. Troye remembers one time they had been arguing in the car but Connor had still grabbed his hand on their way to the restaurant. It seemed so cheesy at the time, but Troye wants that back, he’d give anything to get that back. 

 

“Con, can you at least look at me? What’s keeping you so upset? I just need you to say something.”

 

Connor opens his mouth like he’s about to take Troye out of his misery but instead he grabs his coffee and goes into his room. When Troye hears the lock turn, he immediately feels tears welling up in his eyes. He suddenly gets this notion that this is much worse than he anticipated and a tightness surges from his throat to his chest and the pain is so much he needs to sit down. He feels himself starting to tremble; this is so unlike him and so unlike Connor to treat him this way. He feels like he’s in a bad dream. This is all a bad dream, he tells himself, pinching himself like he’s seen in the movies. This isn’t real. It can’t be.

 

Troye wakes up with a jolt as if he’s just been doused with cold water. He notices two things at once: he’s sweating and it’s dark outside. “Holy shit, it was a dream,” Troye says to no one in particular. He feels actual tears coming on, but of joy this time. He jumps off the couch and runs down the hallway like a madman to Connor’s room. He doesn’t even bother knocking, just barges in and curls up next to Connor like a dog that’s finally been let inside during a thunderstorm. He sees his hands still shaking from the after effects of his dream as he goes up to cup Connor’s shoulder to wake him up. Before Connor’s eyes are even fully open, Troye’s already rambling, “I had the worst dream, Con. You were being so mean, literally vicious and you wouldn’t even look at me and it was all because of that stupid fight we had and I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even mad at you I was just being crappy and cranky. I seriously take you for granted and I’m sorry, you are too good, but it’s exactly what I need. You’re literally amazing, Con. I’m just-“

 

Connor puts his hands up. “Are you practicing an oratory piece?” He asks, laughing, and by the looks of it he’s enjoying this very flustered display. “So I was mean to you in your dream and that made you freak out? How nice am I usually?” He snorts, pulling Troye into his chest to soothe him. “Tro, I’m literally not even upset anymore. Seriously, stop with that ‘too good’ nonsense. We balance each other out. You just get grumpy easily because you’re always tired from traveling but you’re perfect and I don’t mind our dumb fights because otherwise we’d be boring and mushy all the time since we love each other so damn much.”

 

Troye takes in a deep breath and exhales a laugh because he feels like a complete idiot. He hugs Connor tighter and smiles when he feels his hand crawling under his t-shirt. “Can we have makeup sex now?” Connor asks, his breath ghosting Troye’s neck, making Troye’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Connor doesn’t have to ask twice.


End file.
